Actually, I Cry a Lot

We cry a lot. But I.. don’t know how to express these feelings.

It’s like, most nights, when things get exhausting, all I want to do is just cry for no apparent reason. I’m just tired and mostly scared. Am I doing the right thing? Have I been a good person at all? Have I.. been anything?

So I’m writing this letter as a promise to myself.

I promise to forgive myself for all the bad decisions I’ve made.

I promise to forgive myself for all the false versions of me and the kinds of feelings I pushed through in order to feel something. I’m not angry when I’m supposed to be angry, and I pretend to resent people when I’m just creating my own safe boundary.

I promise to forgive myself for pursuing perfection and trying to pry all these emotions until the tiny ripples turn into waves and I don’t even know what’s real anymore.

And.. I remember a promise I made before graduating from high school. Not to cry anymore.

And I’ve broken my promise every single day.

I pretend to be strong, but I know that I am strong, and I often pretend as if I can’t hold everything together. But most times, I pretend as if I can hold everything together when, in reality, I just want to break down and cry. I can hardly convey my difficult feelings into easy words… I’m not really good with words or expressing myself. It’s just tears, all tears, and..

It hurts to be something.

But time moves forward, and we have to move forward.

I’m just surviving, although I can’t tolerate all the bad things I’ve said and done. But most of the time, I just want to cry.

But I promise myself to slowly write about the great future ahead. I am worth all the effort of living, and I am worth the effort to be happy. It’s alright to admit that I’m content, that it’s alright to take myself on dates and eat and love and smile and joke and talk to people and do anything at all. It’s alright to actually live and not to think about anything at all.

And I promise myself not to spiral into the past stories that’ve moulded my wounds to be a forever-scratched tomb upon my skin, but rather a reminder, a lesson, of what it felt like to fall and to build all over again. I promise myself whatever it takes to live again. I truly do.

Love is simply love. I promise to love myself. I promise to love You.